Watercolors
by mouse ichigo
Summary: Sasuke, a troubled young art student, finds help from a certain foulmouthed blonde in the Art Center of Pasadena. [AU]


Watercolors

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

Warning: A little language + inaccurate information about art schools? ;;

Summary: Sasuke, a troubled young art student, finds help from a certain foul-mouthed blonde in the Art Center of Pasadena. AU

I didn't choose Naruto. He chose me. We barely knew each other our freshman year—that is, the freshman year of our art college in Pasadena, California. In fact, I pretty much hated him the day that we met. He was a person opposite of me, a complete antithesis of me. He was tall and loud; an energetic blonde who took up double majors in animation and fine arts; I was a quiet immigrant from Japan, who had no interest whatsoever in design, but chose architecture. Ever since I was young, everyone had told me I was talented—and talent should not be wasted on small sceneries, random pictures of watercolor and pastels. I'd never be able to pursue my own interests, but follow up to the expectations of the others. That didn't matter. I didn't, and still don't mind it much. But anyway, I digress.

I didn't want to share a room with anyone, but wanted, no, _needed_ to get out of the dorms. I held many deep secrets that I could share with no one. I didn't want to even _talk_ to anyone, for fear of slipping up. I can tell them one thing about my past, just _one thing_—and I'd spill everything out like a falling glass of water. As soon as all contents hit the floor, I'd shatter and break.

So I kept to myself, hoping that no one would notice me. I spoke perfect

English, yet spoke not a word to the people around my dorm, my classes, etc. I read like a maniac, and focused on getting my degree. Not that I needed distraction; everyone was busy. Pasadena worked their students well enough.

But I couldn't escape total social intercourses in the school. The laughter, the whispers; the everyday conversations that were daring me to talk—to say _something_; they all bothered me incessantly, everyday. You can't stay an introvert forever, they told me.

"So you're Japanese too, aren't you, Sasuke?"

"…"

"Well, I wasn't born in Japan, but I'm a Japanese American too! My name's Sakura, by the way. You know, the cherry blossoms?"

"…"

"You don't talk much, do you, Sasuke? What's your major? Mine's animation. Second year."

"…Architecture…freshman."

"Oh, that's cool! You know, I have this friend who's having this party on Saturday…"

I didn't want to know her name. Sakura? I thought it was a boring name. It was a common name with two distinct characteristics: dull and overused. To tell the truth, I didn't care for animation, either. I tried to avoid her from the first day, but found her following me around.

"What do you want?" I'd ask her.

"Mm, just wondering if you wanted to come with me to the theaters this weekend?"

"No."

"I'll pay…"

"I don't like you. Leave me alone."

She was older than me, yet seemed like a girl no more than thirteen. She stalked me, trying to get me to talk to her, to touch her, or to agree to go to the movies with her. Or anything ridiculous like that.

But she gave me tips—helped me with some of the classes I had difficulties with. There were a couple, like figure drawing. I hadn't planned on taking it, but found that it was a required class. I barely managed to draw enough mediocre nude figures to get into the school… It was painfully obvious that I'd fail the class.

"You want help, Sasuke? I can come by your class and give you tips, you know?"

"…"

"Oh, don't look at me like that! I'll bring a friend with me—he's best at figure drawings. He's a freshie too, a little annoying but—"

"Sakura…"

"Yes, Sasuke?"

"I don't need your help."

"Are you sure?"

"…"

She peered at me under her bangs, her wide, bright eyes, seeing right through me. I hated confessing or admitting things to other people, especially if they involved describing my faults. But she knew anyway; there was nothing to hide, at least.

"Fine."

"_Knew_ it, haha. Sasuke, really!" She laughed, "don't worry! It _is_ a difficult class. I came totally prepared for this school, but even I had to work—"

"The class starts at ten, tomorrow. Thanks."

I left Sakura, swiftly walking away. She called after me—"where's the class," but I didn't bother answering her. She knew where it was anyway. I didn't even understand exactly _why _I even agreed. Maybe I was sick of having her follow me around. Maybe I was just tired; I had only slept three hours the day before. Maybe I was just a little off that day…or maybe I couldn't say another word without giving something away. And maybe I was a little afraid—but afraid of what?

I shook my head violently, gripping the several brushes in my hands. Stop thinking, I told myself, 'don't think, Uchiha—don't think, don't think, don't think…'

And ran into a someone in the way.

"Ugh, SHIT."

And in some moments later, I found myself falling on the unfortunate someone, who happened to be blonde, tall, and—

"Ouch, _dammit_…"

—foul-mouthed.

I brought my palms to me head, which had literally crashed into the stranger's chin. It took me a while to realize that we lay on the school grounds, in public, in a rather messy and tangled and _awkward_ position.

"What. The. Fuck," he stated in a low, growling tone.

I tried to get up, moving my leg up hastily and accidentally slamming my knee into his groin.

"Aa—FUCK!" He howled again, instinctively punching me off of his body. "What the hell is your problem?"

"I…I didn't mean to—" I fumbled, trying to find my voice.

"You got something against me?"

"No, I was—"

"If you got grudges against me or something, let's fight fairly, but shit, that was really, really low."

"I didn't mean to run into you," I snapped quietly, suddenly afraid of the blonde. I was considered pretty short, as about 5'5. With a lean and lanky body, I was fast, but at a disadvantage in any sort of fighting. The stranger looked about 5'8, and though he didn't seem all that buff either, he looked mad enough to beat me to a pulp.

"Well YOU JUST CRUSHED MY BALLS!" He yelled, about to rip my head off.

'Okay... alright, now think, think, think…,' I mumbled quietly, my mind completely blank. Then it all came back to me, along with the possible solution.

At that instant, I did the only one thing I was very good at. I'm sure there were other ways to deal with this—but I wasn't exactly thinking clearly. I glared at him as hard as I could, and spoke in a low, angry tone:

"If you touch me, I'll kill you."

I know it's pretty silly, but I was hoping that he'd just go away. This had worked before; I had driven away more than a dozen people in my life this way. If he didn't... I'd have to add:

"I know Judo." And if he didn't know what that was, "I'm a black-belt in Tae-Kwon-Do." Or Kung-fu, or Tai-chi, for that matter, whichever seemed to click.

I was expecting him to say something nasty—I dared him to swear again, in my mind. But he didn't do anything, _say_ anything. He just kind of _stared_ at me, suddenly and alertly, until—

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH"

—he burst into a wild laughter. I couldn't believe it. This strange, blonde boy, who was just about to smash me into pieces, began to laugh as if this whole thing was a joke. A really bad, awful joke, set up just to get me. I half expected Sakura to pop out of nowhere, leading the whole school population so they can all laugh at me. I froze in place. I didn't know how to react… I felt all shocked…traumatized…? Wait, was I _twitching_ just then?

With random thoughts running through my mind, I stared at the stranger in numb dismay.

"What…" Then it all sank in. He was just laughing at me.

'_Ah_.'

Then I began to shake with anger—real anger. How _dare_ he laugh at me? I was serious, completely serious! I would definitely kill him now, to have _humiliated_ me like this. I must admit, I was a bit shaken, seconds before. But I wasn't a coward, and he had no right to laugh at me in such way. So why—

"Why." I began, "_why_ are you laughing at me?"

"Shit, you should've seen that expression on your face!" He laughed harder, "'TOUCH me, I'll KILL you,' HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"

I was so flustered just then, that I did not care about _anything_ anymore. I bit my lip angrily and pushed past him hurriedly. 'I did not, and _will_ not put up with this'—I thought, my walk quickly turning into a run.

What kind of a bastard was he? What did he know about anything? He was making fun of my lack of social skills, my past, and my pride. I quickly arrived at my dorm and locked myself in for a couple days. I would only miss one class anyway, the class I had hated the most—figure drawing. I would also miss Sakura and her friend, but what did I care anyway? I answered to no one, not even when my idiot-dorm-mate kicked me in the shin to "get the fuck up." I sulked for three days and chose to forget it for the rest of the year.

But fates were against me. In less than a month, Sakura walked into my figure drawing class with her friend. Unfortunately, and to my dismay, her talented friend just happened to be the crazy blonde that I had run into, many days ago.

"Hey. I'm Naruto. Naruto Uzumaki" He had grinned, showing teeth. I stared suspiciously into his eyes—the clear, blue eyes that seemed to laugh at me, all over again.

"…" I didn't want to say _anything_ to anyone anymore, especially him. My stare turned into a glare.

"Oh, Sasuke, don't be like that. Naruto will help you improve for sure!" Sakura beamed. I glared at her too.

"So Sasuke, huh? Look, I'm really sorry about _that_—you know…" He pretended to frown.

"Huh? Naruto, what are you talking about? Did you two meet already?"

"It—it's nothing." I stuttered, "I'm Uchiha Sasuke—no, Sasuke Uchiha."

"Well then, Sasuke. Nice to meet you."

He offered his hand, and I gripped it hard—hopefully, hard enough to break his bones. He returned the favor by smiling even more. I had a feeling he'd make my life a living hell, and in some ways, I guess I was right. I spent the rest of my freshman year avoiding the loudmouthed blonde…which was, actually, pretty much futile. In a short while, I'd have to _live_ with him for the remainder of my college years.

TBC

A/N: Okay… I know nothing about Pasadena, except that it's an awesome art school. Please excuse my mistakes about Pasadena—or any of the art stuff in general, because I'm still in high school and don't know a thing about how colleges work. Um… yes. I know I have other fic to continue… but ugh blurg I can't write right now. My head's not functioning right. Ugh. I'll shut up now. Thanks for reading—

Isshi


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